Hermione exited the fireplace in a roar of emerald flames, only to be greeted by a large gaggle of reporters. At their head stood none other that Rita Skeeter, complete in a set of lurid fuschia robes that matched her lipstick. The very sight of her bejeweled spectacles had Hermione's fingers itching for her wand, but she resisted the temptation and began to shoulder her way along the length of the Atrium. Reporters trotted to keep up with her brisk strides, peppering her with questions all the way to the elevators.

"Miss Granger! What comments do you have about the death of Lucius Malfoy?"

"Is his murder connected with the Muggle killings in Stratford-upon-Avon?"

"Can I have your autograph?"

"Do you fear for your personal safety with Rodolphus Lestrange escaped from Azkaban?"

The last question caught her off guard, and Hermione felt herself stumble as she stepped into the nearest elevator. Thankfully, no reporters were able to catch more than a glimpse of her shocked expression before she was whisked upwards at a dizzying speed. Rodolphus Lestrange, escaped? She wasn't even aware that there had been a break out.

"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services," said a cool female voice beside Hermione's ear, right as the grille slid open.

Her kitten heeled shoes clipped sharply against the polished floorboards as she hurried down a long corridor, towards where a set of heavy oak doors sat. She blasted them open with a wave of her wand, and was greeted by a room full of startled looking witches and wizards. All movement around the cubicles had stopped, as though they were afraid to resume— Hermione supposed she must be quite a sight, with her hair flying in all directions and a half mad expression on her face.

"Where is Harry Potter?" she demanded.

"I'm right here, Hermione. Can we, er… talk in my cubicle?"

She allowed herself to be pulled behind a partition, which hid a small desk and noticeboard from the rest of the Auror Office (which, Hermione could hear, had resumed its daily workings). Staring down at her from every inch of available space were Death Eaters: dead, alive, missing, and captured. A shudder rippled through her as her eyes skimmed over Dolohov's leering photograph.

"Is it true? Has Lestrange escaped?"

Harry was avoiding her gaze, and Hermione felt the coils of dread churn in her gut. Eventually, in a barely audible mumble, he said, "Lestrange… as well as Greyback, Dolohov, and the Carrows. They overpowered two of the Aurors on watch, grabbed their wands…"

Hermione was no longer listening. She had staggered to one side, and had to catch herself on Harry's desk to keep from keeling over altogether. Five highly dangerous Dark Wizards, all escaped at once… "The Aurors, what happened to them?"

"Silverling is dead, but Fennel was able to get away. He's in St Mungo's now, being treated for that same curse Dolohov got you with in the Department of Mysteries." Harry speared a hand through the front of his already messy hair, and Hermione's heart gave a small pang. He looked so old and weary, with stress casting his face in harsh relief. "Robards is concerned they'll reconvene with Death Eaters that managed to evade capture after the War, like Yaxley. Neville's been responsible for tracking any remaining Snatchers, and he says there's enough of them left to put up a fight."

"What about Lucius Malfoy? Where does he fit into all of this?"

Harry's lips settled into a grim line. "You had better see it for yourself."

Knockturn Alley had been cordoned off by a veil of thick blue fog, which rippled and parted as Hermione and Harry approached, before resealing once the pair had passed through. It was now midmorning, and Hermione could feel sweat prickling uncomfortably under the collar of her robes.

"I will warn you, it's quite gruesome-"

"I can handle it, Harry. Where is he?"

Harry wordlessly motioned a short way down the street, where half a dozen Aurors were patrolling around a dark, misshapen lump crumbled on the flagstones outside Borgin and Burkes. On closer inspection, Hermione could see a mane of white blond hair matted with blood, around which was scrawled the word-

"Traitor? As in… blood traitor? I thought the Malfoys had maintained their prejudices even after they lost the war."

"They've reformed— or at least appeared to, in the public eye. But I don't think that's what it's referring to. If you see here-" Malfoy's sleeve twitched back as Harry brought his wand near, revealing a mess of blood and shredded skin on his left forearm. "His Dark Mark's been peeled off. I think, and Robards agrees with me, that he's been targeted by Death Eaters for abandoning Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts."

Crouching down, Hermione took a closer look at Malfoy's snake head walking stick, which had skittered a short distance away from his corpse. He hadn't even drawn his wand, which she knew to be concealed within the cane, and Hermione felt a strange swoop of sadness. She hated this man, not only for the part he played in the war (including locking her up in his cellar), but for how vile he and his family had been towards everyone they deemed beneath them. And yet, to see him so undignified, spread eagled and broken on the side of a street… No one deserved that.

"If they targeted Malfoy for being a traitor, they may go after others. The rest of his family, and some of the other purebloods who abandoned the cause." Hermione uncoiled to her feet, being careful to sidestep the puddle of blood. "Has a potential victims list been drafted?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, 'Mione. I've already mentioned it to Robards, but I think you should take the investigative lead on this case."

An incredulous laugh escaped her. "Me? Harry, I work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Just last week, I came this close," She held up her thumb and forefinger, hovering a hair's breadth apart, "To convincing the Head to give house elves a liason office. I can't just abandon it now, consider all of the hard work with S.P.E.W. that's been leading up to this moment. I-"

"Hermione, I respect all of the work you've been doing, I really do. But this— getting rid of the last remnants of Voldemort and his following— is the most important thing right now. You're the brightest witch of our age," He talked over her, when Hermione attempted to disagree. "And we need your help with this. I need your help with this."

"I'm not even an Auror."

"We're going to be recruiting. This threat needs to be dealt with once and for all, or else no one— especially not house elves— will be safe."

Harry hardly ever asked for help, and Hermione knew that. Convincing him to let her and Ron accompany him on the hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes had been almost as difficult as finding the Horcruxes themselves. He looked so earnest, standing there, and her mind was already piecing together information at a frantic pace… So she agreed, only a little reluctantly, to do the thing she promised Scrimgeour she would never do: join the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.